Shortly after the first humans were created, there arose a fierce war between beast and man. The formidable dragonlord and her offspring, the dragons, had become dreadfully enraged by their inferiority to the seemingly weak, but vast hordes of people. In an act of sheer, passionate revenge, the mighty dragons waged war against the new race: humans. Fortunately for the humans, the new creatures of the gods, they had in them an innate skill to defend themselves and fight. But even so, the noxious smoke and the sweltering heat of the dragons' fire engulfed the courageous humans. The outlook seemed gravely bleak for the human race in its entirety. The wars carried on for years and years. Knight after brave knight was trampled by the terrible dragons. Nimble paladins were razed in their tracks. Sorcerers' magic seemed to have no effect on the scaly fiends. Soon, it even looked as though the druid had no place; no one to heal. Every human fled from the battlefields. All hope seemed lost.
In the high mountains of Kazordoon, there lived an old warrior, Banor. In these dire days, he was surrounded by the mightiest of men, but legends of his feats in countless wars had been long forgotten. After so many years of hearing about the afflictions of his race, Banor could stand it no longer. In his old age, Banor aspired to unite all men in a final battle against their lifelong dragon foes. Kazordoonian couriers began to journey to all the formerly great cities. The speedy messengers traveled south to Thais and Venore; north to Carlin. Some even set sail to Edron and the all but deserted city of Darashia. They would recruit any able and willing men to fight.
The call was answered. In one, final battle, man would attempt to rise up against their dragon nemeses. Tens of thousands of fighters traveled the perilous passage to Kazordoon to assemble one last time before their legendary leader. Tension and unrest settled as Banor prepared to speak. Banor said nothing of their disadvantages. He spoke no word to put fear into the hearts of the men. Instead, he shouted,
"Rally thou unto me once more! This day, let fear be something of the past. This day, let us place fear into the very souls of those heartless beasts! This day, we shall fight fire with fire! This day, we will be the rulers of this world once again! Rally thou unto me, one last time!"
After his words slowly faded away, all who were gathered let out a magnificent roar. Immediately thereafter, plans for the war began. Neighboring dwarves helped craft the mightiest of axes and clubs. Even the reclusive elves helped, using their skill in sword-making and fashioning of the bow. Soon, the host of men began their trek back into the battle fields. They were accompanied by their reinstated leader, Banor. They travelled northwest, to a vast field north of Carlin. Passing the Hills of Femor, the army of men could already smell the foul odor of the dragons' smoke. Regardless, their courage did not shake. Suddenly, cries of elven children were heard through the air. Then a loud growling snarl was heard soon after. Immediately, knights ran toward the dragon's roar, followed by their paladin brothers. Within minutes, the first victim of the human army was slain.
Beast after beast fell prey to the renewed union of men. Unfortunately, many warriors were lost, too. Around dusk, just a few warriors remained to continue the battle against the dragon foes. Members of both sides continued to fight and die. Finally, there were just ten men left on the battlefield. Nowhere in sight was a dragon. The warriors shouted in jubilation at the seemingly end of their triumphant battle. The merry men who were left turned to Banor, who could do nothing but stare at the sky. The warriors slowly turned their head toward the sky. There they saw the mighty dragon lord. Her whole body gleamed red. Some say because of her fury. Some say it was because of her passionate hate against humans. Some even say it was just the blood from her years of torment. She yelled in agony at the numerous, lifeless bodies of her offspring, and then she caught sight of Banor.
Without delay, the lord dragoness knew this was the leader of men. She flew directly at Banor in an attempt to end his reign, but upon coming near to him, she paused, and they locked eyes. The men stood still, in frightful horror. Banor also stood still. After a moment, the dreadful dragonlord let out a mighty blast of fire. Banor's shield, made from scales of dragons that he had once slain, shattered to pieces under the fire of the dragonlord. She let out another burst of fire, and it razed the mighty leader to the ground.
She turned toward the men, expecting to see them fleeing, but there they stood, ready to avenge Banor's death and to end the battle. The four knights that remained ran with all of their hearts toward the dragonlord, stabbing and swinging at her scaly form. The three enduring paladins shot at the dragonlord's head. Two sorcerers remained, and they pummeled her beastliness with runes of sudden death. A lone druid stayed behind his brothers, healing their burns as rapidly as he could. But the dragoness continued to fight, and the fields still tell stories of her fiery persistence. This final battle went on through the morning and afternoon.
Finally, the dragonlord began to show signs of mortality. Exhausted, she let out a final, but mighty blast of fire. When the smoke cleared, she lay motionless, but there stood the ten brave warriors. This time, there was no shout. No joy filled their hearts, for their leader had perished in battle. They buried his scalded body there, on the battlefield, and named it in his honor: The Fields of Glory. Upon returning home, the warriors were greeted warmly with pleased, but teary-eyed faced. If I can remember correctly, there was a saying that went something like this:
"Hail the ones who survived the dragon’s fire! Hail the Druids and Sorcerers, conjurers of the dragon's fire! Hail the Paladins, swift archers of the dragon's fire! Hail the Knights of the dragon's fire."
Those ten brave men were immortalized by their acts that fateful day. In honor of Banor’s leadership, a new order was created. And that is how the Order of the Dragon (guild) came to be.